Memories Can't Be Forgotten
by Darklore Wings
Summary: Sometimes you forget things that should be forgotten. Sometimes memories come back.


**This was an idea I had that had to come out. I'm so sorry to Ryuichi lovers. I love him too, but this had to be written! **

**Don't own the wonderful, magnificent, Gravitation.  
**

_Memories That Can't Be Forgotten_  
  
Ryuichi bounced into the studio, eyes sparkling, humming 'Shining Collection.' Tohma looked over at him expectantly, hands poised over the keyboard. Noriko had a mock-frown pasted over her face, ready to begin the recording session. K was standing outside in the hall, waiting for Bad Luck to show up. Ryuichi placed Kumagoro down tenderly on the chair that was reserved for the bunny, then ambled into the box where they were waiting for him.  
  
Adjusting the microphone, he looked up to see whether the guy was ready to record their new songs. His breath froze in his throat. Staring back at him was his reflection, from 23 years ago. A young boy with scruffy brown hair, fearful green eyes and a sickly complexion stared at him.  
  
Ryuichi stepped back, tripping on a cord. Closing his eyes tightly, he could faintly hear Noriko and Tohma asking him what was wrong. Another image came to his eyes, causing him to lose it.  
  
He screamed, then ran out of the recording studio, in his haste leaving Kumagoro behind. He sprinted through the halls of NG, shoving people out of his way.  
  
Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, but he brushed then away, and ran two bocks before turning down a side alley. Homeless men watched as the young man ran down the alleyway, then turned into another one. Entering the slums of Tokyo, he rushed along two streets, then turned down another alley, then entered a crumbling area that had once been the red light district. Children hiding in the old buildings stared at Ryuichi as he headed towards the one house that every child refused to enter on a dare.  
  
The house was decrepit, the roof broken and windows boarded. Before an incident, boy drug-dealers and lived there, under the command of the drug- master, who all but owned them  
  
Ryuichi pushed down the rotted door, then climbed the stairs to the second floor, the memory pulsing in his brain.  
  
_A man with graying hair, brandishing a knife._  
  
He slowed, catching his breath. He cautiously turned down a decaying hallway, rats fleeing at his footsteps.  
  
_The smell of drugs lingering in the air._  
  
He saw a door, covered with police tape and water-speckled paper. Ancient crayon drawings could barely be seen on the paper.  
  
_The feeling of desperation as he tried to run away._  
  
Ryuichi opened the door, slowly.  
  
_Screams filling the house, then pain._  
  
Ryuichi gasped. It was still there.  
  
_Blood pouring from the child's back, as the knife came down and stabbed him in the back again._  
  
He fell to his knees, then crawled to where a faded bloodstain could still be seen on the wooden floor.  
  
_Grabbing the man's wrist, then turning the knife around and stabbing-  
_  
Ryuichi screamed again, then tore off his shirt and clawed at his back, tears finally winning and pouring from his eyes.  
  
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Tohma ran after Ryuichi, trying to catch up. Whatever had made him run out had to be serious, but as Ryuichi ran out the door, Tohma lost him. Almost as soon as he had turned around, K was immediately at his side.  
  
"What happened to Ryuichi?" The American demanded, knuckles white on his gun.  
  
Tohma shook his head, eyes roving the crowd outside. "He just snapped. He came in to do the recording, then he just lost it and ran out."  
  
K grabbed Tohma by the wrist and dragged him outside. Tohma didn't protest, but kept searching the busy sidewalk, hoping that Ryuichi would pop out, smiling and asking Tohma whether he could sing yet.  
  
He was abruptly broken out his trance as K pushed him into the passenger side of his car. K got in, then opened a laptop that was stowed between the seats. He looked over at the other blond.  
  
"Was he carrying Kumagoro?" He asked, eyes piercing.  
  
Tohma swallowed. He had never seen K like this before. "No."  
  
K nodded, then with a few clicks, a map of the city had appeared on the screen. A glowing red dot was slowly moving down streets on the edge of the screen. K's eyes narrowed, but he floored the car and shot out into the street, not even realizing other cars were on the road. Every so often his eyes would flicker to the screen, then back onto the road. Tohma kept quiet, praying that whatever K was doing was bringing them closer to the singer.  
  
Eventually K slowed down as they approached the area that Ryuichi was in. K drove until they were outside an old house, and by the looks of it, the door had recently been knocked down.  
  
Tohma got out, uneasy. K reached into his truck and pulled out his .44 Magnum, then walked boldly into the edifice, blue eyes probing every corner. Tohma, who was adept at hearing, listened, then heard something from the second floor. Not even bothering to tell K, he raced up the stairs, calling Ryuichi's name over and over.  
  
The sound he had heard grew louder as he turned down another hallway. Slowing down, a door had been left ajar, and from the sound of it, that was where Ryuichi was. Tohma opened the door, then gasped.  
  
Ryuichi was in there, but this wasn't the Ryuichi that Tohma wanted to see. His shirt was thrown in a corner, exposing two webbed scars on his back. Blood trickled from cuts that Ryuichi had ripped into himself, and it looked like he was lying in the middle of an older, more sinister blood puddle.  
  
Tohma ran over, then pulled Ryuichi into a sitting position. Tears were raining from his eyes, and his brown hair was mussed. Tohma took off his coat and cover Ryuichi with it, trying to figure out what to do. Thank God K was there. He ran into the room, and immediately picked Ryuichi up. Handing the gun to Tohma, he carried Ryuichi back down to his car, letting Ryuichi down in the backseat. Tohma climbed into the backseat as well, handing the gun back to K. The whole transition had been done without words, but each knew that words weren't needed.  
  
As Tohma tried to comfort Ryuichi as best he could, K drove with reckless abandon to the hospital.  
  
"Who is the patient?" The nurse at the emergency desk asked.  
  
"Sakuma Ryuichi." Tohma said, caring little for discretion.  
  
The woman's eyes widened, then she resumed the questioning. "Who is admitting him?"  
  
"Seguchi Tohma." Tohma said. Then he snapped. "Just hurry up. He's bleeding and it looks like he's in shock."  
  
The woman looked like she was about to argue, but seeing K over Tohma's shoulder, she cut her reply short.  
  
A doctor and two nurses took Ryuichi from K, then wheeled him away on the gurney. The two of them took seats in the waiting room, K polishing his gun, Tohma with his head in his hands.  
  
An hour passed before a doctor came out. "Are you Seguchi-san?" He asked.  
  
Tohma stood, worry very clearly written across his face. "I am." He could sense K right behind him.  
  
The doctor nodded, then motioned for Tohma to follow him. He spoke very quickly as he walked.  
  
"Ryuichi's situation is delicate. The cuts were shallow, only two required stitching. But the emotional trauma. . . ." He let his words fade away, then entered a room with a 'private' sign on the door.  
  
Ryuichi was asleep on the bed, face relaxed. Tohma and K let out identical sighs of relief. The doctor's words cut it short, though.  
  
"I have been Ryuichi's doctor since he was a child, the first time he came here. Frankly, I'm surprised he is where he his. But still. . ." Once again he let his words trail.  
  
Tohma had lost patience. "What are you trying to tell us?"  
  
The doctor looked surprised, but handed him a photo. "This was Ryuichi the first time I saw him."  
  
A young boy was lying on a stretcher, eyes closed. His skin was pale and sickly looking, and his hair was limp around his face. He looked malnourished, and brittle. His cloths looked too big for him, and had rips every few inches.  
  
Tohma gasped. "When was this picture taken?" He asked, staring.  
  
The doctor sighed. "23 years ago. This is Ryuichi a year after that picture was taken."  
  
This picture was drastically different. Now he was smiling, green eyes shining. His hair was still mussed around his face, but had a healthy sheen to it. His skin was glowing, and he had jeans and a red shirt on. He was obviously leaving the hospital, because he was waving.  
  
K hissed. "That looks more like the Ryuichi I know."  
  
The doctor nodded. "We were lucky. The first picture was right as he entered the hospital. In that time, he made remarkable progress, and left a normal child."  
  
Tohma nodded, then pointed to the first picture. "How did he get like this?"  
  
Looking over at the bed, the doctor motioned to the silent singer. "Actually, it started when he was born. His mother abandoned him, we presume she was a prostitute who accidentally got pregnant. Like I said, he was abandoned." The doctor shuddered. "He was left in the red light district, where I can only presume he was used by other homeless women as a tool to get money. Around the age of five he fell in with bad company." Another shudder. "Aizaki Yoshu. The biggest drug dealer in the district. He took the boy in, and in exchange for housing, food and clothes, the boy would go out and beg for money, and when he got older, he would sell drugs. At the age of eight, it all went downhill. . ."

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_Ryuichi lay on the floor, coloring on a napkin with broken crayon bits. Outside it was getting dark, and the scary ladies would come out. Humming to himself, he ignored the constant pounding from downstairs.  
  
Footsteps at his door caused him to look up. The door slammed open as Aizaki stormed into the room.  
  
"Why aren't you out getting me money, brat?" he roared, the smell of sake coming from his mouth.  
  
Ryuichi stood up, then bowed. "I'm sorry sir, but the ladies of the night are out there."  
  
The man sneered. "Oh, the hookers are out. Get used to them. One of them is your mother, I bet."  
  
Ryuichi trembled, knowing he shouldn't argue, but couldn't help himself. "That's not true! My mommy's not one of them!"  
  
Aizaki glared, then smacked Ryuichi, hurling him into the wall. "Did you just argue with me, brat?"  
  
Ryuichi stood up, wiping the tears that threatened his eyes. "No sir."  
  
The man walked closer, then reached into his pocket. "I think you did. And do you know what happens to people who argue with me?"  
  
Ryuichi saw the metal glint in Aizaki's hand, then turned and tried to run out of the room. He got to the middle of the room, then the knife arced through the air and he screamed. The blade sunk through his back, narrowly missing his heart and tearing his lung. The man swung the knife again, then it ripped through the other side of his back. Falling forward, Ryuichi turned around, blood coating the floor like a strange rug. A burst of adrenaline coursed through his small body as he reached up and grabbed Aizaki's wrist, turning it around. Not thinking, he pushed the knife forward. He closed his eyes as the man screamed, then he felt warm blood soaking his front. Aizaki fell to the floor, knife protruding through his eye. Ryuichi's brain only then registered the holes in his back, then every nerve screamed in pain. A strangled cry fell from Ryuichi's lips, then he mercifully passed out, blood still draining from his back.  
_

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Tohma nearly broke into tears. K looked horrified, something that never happened. The doctor looked sad too, then ended the story. "Luckily someone was kind enough to bring him here right away. I was on call, and that's when I saw him. That was the only time I've ever been sick because of a patient. Luckily, we managed to repair his lungs and save his life. After months of intense therapy, he managed to suppress the memory, and was adopted by the Sakuma family. We knew that there was a chance that the memory would someday resurface, but prayed that he would never remember. I'm guessing that's why he's in shock."  
  
K looked at the sleeping form on the bed. "What will happen to him?"  
  
The doctor shrugged. "It varies from patient to patient. He may get over it quickly, or it may damage him for life. It depends on how strong he is."  
  
Tohma closed his sapphire eyes. "There's no doubt he's a strong person. I'm just amazed. His lungs were damaged, and yet he still managed to become a singer."  
  
The doctor nodded. "He truly is a miracle."  
  
K looked at his watch. "Tohma, I have to go."  
  
Tohma nodded. "Of course. Just don't say anything."  
  
K nodded, then left the room.  
  
The doctor's beeper went off. "You'll be staying with him?"  
  
Tohma nodded. "Of course I will."  
  
The doctor hurried off, as Tohma pulled a seat up next to the bed. He held Ryuichi's hand gently, waiting for him to wake up.  
  
Eventually, he opened his eyes. They looked around, then he felt the pressure on his hand. Looking over, he saw Tohma smiling. "I'm glad you're awake."  
  
Ryuichi smiled, then the memories of what happened took over and he sat up, grabbing his hair with is hands.  
  
"I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-"  
  
Tohma reached over and gently grabbed Ryuichi's hand again. "It's not your fault, Ryuichi."  
  
Ryuichi looked at Tohma, face distressed. "I did bad things."  
  
Tohma used his other hand to grab Ryuichi's shoulder and pulled him in, hugging the singer. "None of it was your fault, and you've gotten past that. You've become a wonderful person, with a bright future. You're going to forget this again, and continue to shine like you always have."  
  
Ryuichi looked up. "Really?"  
  
Tohma nodded. "Really."

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**Depress-o-rama! I really messed up Ryuichi, didn't I? Poor kid! Sorry Raynedark! Please don't kill me! I'm so depressed I wrote this! But tell me what you think. If you choose to flame me, I will add them to my flame- thrower.** **Believe it or not, I got this idea all on my own, no help from other stories or TV!**


End file.
